


Dead Flies in the Summertime

by achievement_huntresss



Category: Danger Days: The True Lives of the Fabulous Killjoys - My Chemical Romance (Album), My Chemical Romance, The True Lives of the Fabulous Killjoys: California (Comics)
Genre: (They Just Don't Know It Yet), Aftermath of Torture, Alternate Universe, Character Study, Ghoul Is A Dick, M/M, Nonbinary Jet Star (Danger Days), Nonbinary Party Poison (Danger Days), Party Poison (Danger Days) Is A Dick, Past Brainwashing, Pre-Canon, Strangers to Hesitant Allies to Friends to Lovers, THE GIRL'S MOM'S NAME IS-, The Fabulous Killjoys Are MCR (kind of), Where Am I Going With This Story? Who Knows!, vaguely canon compliant
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-12-13
Updated: 2020-12-12
Packaged: 2021-03-09 20:00:31
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 8
Words: 17,580
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/27951977
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/achievement_huntresss/pseuds/achievement_huntresss
Summary: Gerard Way is a model citizen in Battery City. He works on a BL/i sanctioned comic series - Action Cat! - and always takes his pills on time. Of course he has his quirks, as most citizens of Batt City do - he avoids mirrors, writes words on his neck in black pen, and - oh yeah - his brother has been missing for a year.A chance encounter in a dark alley tips the scales.But which direction?
Relationships: Frank Iero/Gerard Way, Fun Ghoul/Gerard Way, Fun Ghoul/Party Poison (Danger Days)
Comments: 4
Kudos: 18





	1. A Very (un)Fortunate Meeting

**Author's Note:**

> Is this gonna be good? Probably not. Hope you enjoy anyways
> 
> (UPDATES SATURDAYS!)

The bright and cheery alarm startles Gerard awake. He glares at the clock on the shelf next to his drawing desk, blinks a few times, then jolts.

" _Fuck-_ "

Nearly knocking his chair over, the artist all but jumps up and sprints to the bathroom of his BL/i approved two-bedroom apartment. Everything is stark white, including the faucets Gerard is now turning quickly. No time to shower (not that he does that much anyways), so he settles for running a washcloth under the water and wiping his face and neck quickly. He frowns at the words on his neck - ' _SOUL_ ' written on his Adam's apple in black pen - and scrubs until the word is gone and his throat turns pink. It feels like sometimes he goes into a fugue state when he drafts the comics and wakes up with words or even full phrases on his arms or neck. He avoids looking in the mirror for the rest of his time in the bathroom, only sparing one last glance before he leaves. There's always something in the mirror that just feels... wrong... and he's sure that if he brings it up, there isn't a medication for it.

Speaking of, he stumbles out of the bathroom, rubbing at his damp face with a towel. He manages to find his pill bottles and swallows his morning dose dry. He quickly dresses, white slacks and a white short sleeve button up shirt. He adjusts his black tie and throws on a white jacket as well before toeing on his shoes. The coffee maker dings as he packs up his drafts and supplies into his briefcase and he thanks BL/i, not for the first time, for coffee machines with automatic settings. He downs half the mug while adjusting his glasses, and pours the rest into his BL/i assigned white thermos before hurrying out the door.

He makes it to the monorail station just in time. Everyone has their eyes on the floor, dazed looks on their faces. _Just like normal_ , Gerard thinks. His own face begins to relax and the edges of his mind begin to feel a bit fuzzy. He boards the monorail and holds onto one of the upper rails, offering the seat behind him to a young lady who barely looks at him. One of the BL/i sanctioned popular songs is stuck in his head, but he refrains from singing along to it. He taps his fingers once, twice, three times against his briefcase handle and checks his watch. On time. As always.

Gerard exits at the third stop, as per usual. He nods to the two other employees in his building that also take that monorail. One of them - Gerard can't remember their name - nods back, but the other - a man Gerard thinks is named Bert - keeps his eyes firmly on the floor. Gerard faces forward once again and makes it to his section of the building's door. He scans his badge and waits for the buzz. Upon hearing it, he opens the door and walks through the lobby. The receptionist, Mae, waves to him, but keeps her eyes on her monitor. He waves back, walking to the elevator. It opens when he scans his card, and he presses the button for the 10th floor. The doors are about to close when a hand lands on one of the doors, forcing it back open. Gerard backs up warily. 

A tall person in an open collar white blouse enters the elevator. They press the button for the 9th floor - the music department - and faces the door, not looking at Gerard. Gerard studies them, noting how pale they are, and how odd it is that the lights reflect so clearly off their bald head. Just before the elevator reaches the 9th floor, the person turns around to stare at Gerard. Gerard immediately fixes his gaze on the screen with the floor numbers, but manages to catch the name on the tag the person is wearing.

" _KORSE_

_DESIGNATION: **S/C/A/R/E/C/R/O/W** "_

The person - Korse - does an abrupt about-face and walks out of the elevator the second the door dings open. Gerard's hands are shaking and he feels cold. He isn't quite sure why, but he feels as though Korse has taken the oxygen out of the elevator with them.

The longest 10 seconds of Gerard's life later, and the elevator dings open on the 10th floor. Gerard walks out, almost in a daze, and only snaps back into reality when he's firmly in his seat at his art station. Another BL/i sanctioned popular song plays on a stereo across the room, but Gerard really can't tell the difference between it and any of the other songs they play on the radio. He sighs, pulling out his work and supplies from his briefcase and drains the last of his coffee from his thermos. He begins to finish up the last of his sketches for his draft, planning on turning them in before his lunch. He hears whispering from a workstation behind him. The fuzzy feeling in his brain somewhat subsides as he eavesdrops.

"Did you hear what was happening down on 9?" Another artist whispers - Gerard thinks it's Amy, a backgrounds artist for the comic. She's been known to be a bit of a gossip, but Gerard's never really talked to her before, so he withholds judgement.

"No. What?" Gerard knows that voice - Oliver, a letterer and typesetter. Gerard's worked with them a few times, they have a keen eye for detail, and often gives Gerard feedback on his placement on certain things to make the text more aesthetically pleasing to read with the images.

"Apparently someone down in music - I think Brian? - Was caught making unsanctioned music." Gerard's blood runs cold. He runs a hand nervously over his throat, as if the words he had written in a manic state were still there.

Oliver gasps, then covers it with a cough. "You're kidding."

"No. I think he was playing around with forbidden instruments or something." Amy clears her throat then lowers her voice. Gerard strains to hear her. "I heard an exterminator was sent in."

There's an uncomfortable silence. Scratching of pens and pencils, minor chit-chat from other artists and letterers make Gerard feel like he's alone on an island. He pretends to erase something and redraws over a line.

"An exterminator?" Oliver sounds confused. "They're moving right to termination for music?"

"If you ask me, I think they're trying to make an example out of him. There's been so many attacks and infiltrations from those rebels out in the zones." Amy takes a deep breath. "I think they want people to know that if you step out of line even a little bit, there's consequences."

It feels like a hand made of ice has a grip on Gerard's heart. He closes his eyes and takes a deep breath. Once he feels a little more steady, he opens them and begins working. The edges of his mind begin to blur once again and he tunes out the whispers behind him for the rest of the morning. 

\----

10 minutes before lunch, Gerard steps forward at his supervisor's desk and hands over his finished drafts. Lacey looks over the newest issue, the new inked lines and scribbled notes with a vaguely positive look on her otherwise blank face.

"Well done, Gerard," She says in her usual monotone voice. "I'll pass these along. The new issue of _Action Cat!_ should be printed and available by next Tuesday."

Gerard nods and walks from her desk, passing by the line of everyone else showing their completed work. He grabs his thermos from his desk and beelines to the elevator. He allows himself to feel a bit of pride, despite getting the same monotonous praise from Lacey since he began working for her on the _Action Cat!_ comic. It still felt nice to finish his work on time and get praised for it. He boards the elevator with a few others, all talking politely among themselves about whatever was on TV last night or whatever restaurant they were headed to for lunch. Gerard only replied when spoken to directly, otherwise just watching the numbers go down. The chill he'd felt earlier returned when the 9th floor passed, and Gerard shivered, pulling his jacket closer to his body. 

Finally, the elevator reached the main floor. Mae was still at her desk, nodding to those that passed her and waved, but otherwise keeping her eyes on her monitor. Gerard walked into the fresh air and took a deep breath. He walked past the crowd of workers all heading to lunch, making his way to the side streets. There was a tiny bodega on the corner two streets away that he hadn't been to in what felt like ages. He used to frequent it all the time before... huh. That was strange. He couldn't remember the last time he had been there. A month or so? Anyways, it was run by a kindly older lady, selling sanctioned BL/i products and food, not to mention some of the best coffee Gerard's ever had. He hummed something quietly, just a melody in his now very clear head that he couldn't get rid of. Anytime he saw or heard anyone else, he quickly shut up. 

The 5 minute walk to the bodega is peaceful, and Gerard is grateful. A few kids run past him at one intersection, but he manages to duck out of the way before any trouble can happen near him. The shop's doorbell chimes as he walks in and he takes a deep inhale of the coffee. The shopowner peers at him over her glasses before lighting up immediately, a big grin on her face that should set off warning bells for anyone with a fuzzy brain.

"Oh, Mr. Way! How good to see you again!"

"Good afternoon," Gerard replies politely. He busies himself by grabbing a sandwich from the cooler (wrapped in white BL/i packaging of course) and a packet of freeze-dried apple slices. The lady is fixing up a pot of coffee and motions for him to set his stuff on the counter.

"How have you been, dear boy? It feels as if it's been ages since I saw you last."

Ages? Gerard's head feels like it's spinning. He was just here last ~~week~~ ~~year~~ month, wasn't he? "Uh-"  
  


The woman must not read the confusion on his face. She finishes with the coffee pot and shuffles back to the counter. "Oh, I was just devastated to hear what happened to Elena. She was a kind woman. Very much like yourself and Michael." She begins to scan his sandwich and apple slices. "Elena was my neighbor you know, when we all first got to the city. We both took those pills at first, but we found that they didn't have much effect on, _er..._ women of a certain age."

Elena? Michael? Gerard feels like the walls are closing in on him. He knows those names. He knows he knows those names. He can feel the pills in his stomach from this morning and feels like he might throw up.

"And poor Michael! What a sweet boy. I'm sure the loss devastated you both. I hadn't heard what happened to him. It's been - what - a year? I know you've been working, dearie, but what's that Michael up to now anyways?"

Gerard feels faint. "I-I'm not sure. Sorry."

"Oh, nothing to be sorry about, dear boy. I'm just glad they let you go back to work for that comic you liked so much." The woman finishes checking his things out and hands him a bag. The coffee pot across the store dings and Gerard stumbles over to it, filling his thermos.

The woman waves to him as he leaves. "Thanks for coming in, hon. Have a good day, Gerard!"

Gerard mumbles a "thanks, you too." before quickly walking out the door. He doesn't feel very hungry anymore, and instead feels the telltale sign of a headache beginning in his temples. He rubs at them, cursing himself for leaving his pills at his workspace. He hates being late on his pills, hates the feeling of withdrawal when he misses his dose by a few minutes. He suddenly drops his bag of lunch and dry heaves onto the pavement. Nothing comes out and Gerard doesn't feel any better, but he coughs a few times just to see if anything will come up.

Still nothing, so he spits and picks up his bag, heading back towards his building. His head, while aching, does feel remarkably clear, and he has a quick thought of "maybe being off the pills isn't so bad" before his common sense kicks back in. Of course he needs to be on his pills, they're good for him. It's like he told Mikey-

Gerard stops dead in his tracks in the alley, eyes wide.

Mikey.

How could he have forgotten Mikey?

His little brother. Gerard's head throbs but he can picture his carefully styled brown hair, his glasses he always wore on the tip of his nose. He can hear his laugh, see his crooked smile, feel his reassuring hand on his shoulder. 

Oh God.

How could Gerard have forgotten Mikey?

Gerard sways, and leans against the wall in the alley to steady himself. He remembers. 

_They had a fight - him and Mikey .They'd just gotten back from a family dinner (encouraged by BL/i) with their parents and grandmother and Mikey was going to crash with Gerard before heading back to ----_ … Gerard couldn't remember where he was heading, but anyways... _Gerard had gone to take his pre-bedtime dose, when Mikey had grabbed his wrist and forced him to drop the pills, clattering on the floor._

_"What the hell, Mikey?"_

_"You shouldn't be taking those, Gerard. Please-" Mikey had looked so upset. "Please just listen to me."_

_"Mikey- we - I have to take them. You know the rules."_

_"The rules are bullshit, Gerard! You know that!" Mikey was yelling._

_Gerard, not one to back down, got right in Mikey's face. "The rules are what keep us alive, Mikey. BL/i keeps us-"_

_"They keeps us dumb, Gerard. They keep us emotionless and drugged and docile. I'm not taking that shit anymore."_

_Gerard's heart stopped. "Mikey-"_

_"I'm leaving Gerard. Tonight. Some friends have a way out into the Zones." Mikey suddenly takes Gerard's hands in his own. "Come with me."_

_"Wh- Mikey. We can't go to the Zones, are you insane?!" Gerard rips his hands from Mikey's grasp._

_"We have to," Mikey pleads. "It's the only way- off these pills, away from the city. You could draw what you want, use colors, listen to real music! Gerard-"_

_"What about mom and dad? Mikey, what about our Grandmother?! You think an elderly lady can just waltz out into the Zones and survive?!" Gerard throws his hands up. "Was tonight a goodbye?!"_

_Mikey bites his lip and looks down at his shoes. Gerard feels his heart sink. "It was, wasn't it?"_

_Mikey nods._

_"I'm not going with you, Mikey. I- I can't I can't do that to them."_

_"You think it's easy for me?!" Mikey's yelling again. "I have to pretend to be the perfect son, a drugged up model citizen?! When I know that the pills and all the programming - it's ruining us, Gerard. They're killing us. The food and shit they're pumping into us - it's killing us." Mikey runs a hand through his hair._

_Gerard shakes his head. "You should go."_

_Mikey looks up, shocked and hurt. "Gerard-"_

_"Go!" Gerard screams. Mikey stares at him for a long times before turning around and leaving, slamming the door without another word. Gerard sinks to the floor and sobs._

Gerard in the present is on the concrete of the alley, head in between his knees as he hyperventilates. He trembles as he remembers the last words with Mikey- with his own brother. He had been so scared, so angry. All Mikey needed was Gerard to talk to him, and what did he do? Yelled at him. Gerard forces himself to take a deep breath and fails to get enough air into his lungs. How could he do that to him? How could he forget his own brother? The ache in his head gets worse.

He's having flashes of a stark white room, a metal table, needles injecting clear liquid into his veins. Gerard gags, scrubbing at his arms, as if he can rub away the feeling of needles in his skin. The memory of a robotic female voice repeating specific words and a flashing light sends a chill up his spine and he can almost feel the pills in his empty stomach like a weight. He dry heaves again, a choked sob coming from his mouth. He vaguely registers the sound of running footsteps coming towards him but he's too out of it to feel any panic.

"Oh, Jesus fucking Christ-" A rough, fast voice cuts through the static shield of emotion Gerard is encased in.

"Mikey?" Gerard asks hopefully, looking up at the voice.

"Uh-" A figure steps forward, presumably the owner of the voice. "No. Sorry. I'm-"

Gerard's headache subsides and his eyes are finally able to focus. There's a man kneeling in front of him, a hand out as if he wants to help Gerard but isn't sure how to - or what to do. He has long, shaggy black hair and wide hazel eyes. He has a green(!) vest over a yellow(!) and black shirt. A green(!) blaster(!!) hangs from a holster under his arm. His arms look discolored, and it isn't until Gerard forces his eyes towards them that he realizes that he's covered in tattoos.

"You're-" Gerard gasps. The man looks panicked for a second and covers Gerard's mouth with his hand.

"Shut up," the man commands, voice slightly shaky. "Seriously, shut up. I'm not here to hurt you, or anyone else. I'm just here to grab a few things and get out. Please don't scream."

Gerard nods. 

"I'm gonna take my hand back now, alright?"

Gerard nods again.

The rebel takes his hand away slowly, not breaking eye contact with Gerard. Gerard stares him down, wondering if maybe he should try to scream after all. He then remembers his earlier breakdown, and the fact that he is late on his pills, and cringes, looking away from the rebel. If they come for the rebel, he'll be questioned too. And he feels a pickly feeling on the back of his neck that being questioned while off his pills is not going to end well for him.

"Who's Mikey?"

"What?"

Gerard looks back up at the rebel. He's still staring at him. "You called me Mikey. Is that someone you know?"

Gerard swallows, his mouth suddenly dry. "My brother. He went-" He frowns. "He went out to the Zones. I - They made me forget him."

"They?"

"Never mind." Gerard says, nervously.

"Well, if he's out in the zones, he wouldn't be going by Mikey. Maybe I know him."

"What?"

The rebel shrugs. "Just saying. The Zones may be big, but pretty much every runner knows one another."

Gerard sits up, his head spinning. "I need to find him."

"I- no offense, man, but I don't think that's a very good-"

Gerard jolts suddenly, eyes wide. "I have to tell him - Mikey - he doesn't know-" Memories suddenly flash through his head - wearing black in a city of white, his mother crying, a casket heavy on his shoulders- He begins to shake.

"Whoa!" The rebel is startled for a moment, then regains his composure and grips Gerard's shoulders, forcing him to still and look at him. "Calm down. What's going on?"

Gerard tries to take a deep breath and fails. He blames his racing heart on his panic and not on the hazel eyes currently peering at him. "Our Grandmother. She - She died. A few days after Mikey left. He doesn't- he doesn't know. I have to tell him." It's a herculean effort, but he manages to shake the rebel's hands off him and stand up.

"Whoa- Wait!" The rebel stands with him. "Hey!"

"Take me to the Zones. Please. I just have to- I have to see him. He needs to know." _And I need to know that he's alive_ , Gerard doesn't say.

The rebel runs a gloved hand through his hair. Gerard holds his breath. "I-"

An alarm blares through the street. Gerard freezes and the rebel swears. Oh No. Gerard never returned to his desk. Memories flash of masked, white-suited people invading his apartment as he sobbed on the kitchen floor and Gerard flinches back, away from the sound. The rebel glances towards the direction of the alarm, finger twitching towards his blaster before turning to Gerard.

"Fine. But if you die out there-" The rebel shakes his head and takes Gerard's hand. He can barely remember the last time someone touched him kindly. He's pulled from his thoughts - then literally pulled along by the rebel who is much stronger than his smaller frame would let on. The rebel picks up a backpack laying a little ways away across the alley and pulls Gerard along.

"Do you need to bring anything?" He asks, not stopping his determined pace.

"Uh-" He can't remember. His apartment really has nothing personal in it, besides his sketchbooks, but he's sure there will be someone - or something - waiting for him the second he returns. He shakes his head, then realizes the rebel can't see him. "No."

"Great." The rebel continues to pull him along, through the labyrinth of alleyways and side streets until they're well out of the center of the city. Gerard vaguely registers that they're out by the Juvie halls and panics slightly. He then focuses on the feeling of warm, worn leather gripping his hand and he relaxes - surely no Ritalin Rat will even try to approach when an honest-to-God rebel was pulling him through the broken streets.

Finally, they reach a maintenance door, off to the side and chained up. The rebel pulls at the chain and yanks the door open. He shoves Gerard through and follows behind, back to Gerard, blaster out of its holster. He shuts the door gingerly behind them and turns to Gerard, lowering his blaster.

"Are you ready?" he breathes. Gerard's gaze drops to his lips, noting the quirk up of the corner. He forces himself to look back up at those hazel eyes.

"I- Wait. What's your name?"

The rebel tilts his head in confusion. "What? Man, we don't have time-"

"I'm Gerard. Gerard Way." 

The rebel stares at him for a long time. He sighs. "Fun Ghoul. My name's Fun Ghoul."


	2. Escape!

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Fun Ghoul leads Gerard out into the Zones - and finds that he really doesn't like this city boy.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Ghoul's POV! Enjoy!

Fun Ghoul decided very quickly that he really did not like this city boy.

Ghoul marched down the rickety metal stairs, taking his purple and green Frankenstein mask from his back pocket and placing it on his head, askew as not to block his vision. He glanced back at Gerard, who was still standing on the stairs.

"Hey-" The taller man startles and glances down the stairs at Ghoul. "We need to get moving. 'Crows'll be on us soon."

A wave of about 7 different emotions cross Gerard's face before he settles on a vaguely determined expression and makes his way down the stairs. Ghoul sizes him up and begins searching around the room.

"What are you-"

"We gotta find you some new clothes man. And a mask. You can't go wanderin' out into the Zones in all white, yer gonna get ghosted."

The basement of this empty building is more or less a hideout in the city for Zonerunners who make supply runs into the city - reckless, stupid runners like Ghoul. There had to be something in here Gerard could use. Ghoul finds a pair of gray jeans and a blaster with a half full battery. He shrugs and turns to Gerard.

"Here. Put these on," He shoves the jeans at Gerard. "We'll find a jacket or something else later. Y'know how to use a blaster?"

"Uh-"

Ghoul shrugs. "You'll learn." He turns around to give Gerard some privacy. The bombs in his backpack clank loudly and he cringes. Okay, so maybe he lied to Gerard when he'd said he wasn't there to hurt anyone. He personally didn't think Dracs counted as people, but Gerard had the newbie shakes and wild eyes of someone fresh off the pills, so he's sure that admitting to that kind of thinking would scare the guy back into the clutches of BL/i. He sighs. He really didn't expect this mission of his to take this kind of turn. He had snagged the medical supplies they needed and a few cans of power pup, but now he was left with 5 undetonated bombs and nowhere to plant them.

"Um, Fun Ghoul?" Ghoul turns around to face Gerard. He has the jeans on, luckily fitting, and had stripped down to his plain black undershirt. 

"Just Ghoul is fine, man." He steps forward and hands an uncertain looking Gerard the blaster. "We're gonna be okay, alright?"

The taller man nods. Ghoul offers a smile. "Now lets find you a mask."

They search around the tiny basement room. Ghoul finds some rations and water, and places them gingerly into the backpack. He finds a yellow bandana and grins, turning to face Gerard, who was holding-

"You're joking."

Gerard glances at the Action Cat mascot head in his hand and back up at Ghoul. "What?"

"You- We can't take that, dude."

"It's a mask!" Ghoul's fingers twitch, like he's trying hand not to strangle Gerard.

"That's not gonna fit in the Trans Am."

Gerard raises an eyebrow. "The what?"

"My car," Ghoul explains exasperatedly. "My crew's car. It's - You're not-"

Gerard lifts his chin, glaring at Ghoul. "I'm taking it with me. I like it."

"Fine!" They really didn't have time to argue and he figures he can 'accidentally' not secure the damn thing and lose it in one of the Zones.

Gerard finds an old jump rope under a shelf and begins to secure the head to himself while Ghoul checks the sewer hatch in the middle of the room. The coast was clear. He pries up the manhole cover and glances at Gerard. 

"You look ridiculous."

Gerard, who can't think of a comeback, resorts to sticking his tongue out. 

Ghoul snorts and rolls his eyes. "Real mature. What, are you, 5 years old?"

Gerard begins to reply, then cuts himself off, a panicked look on his face. "I- I don't know how old I am."

Ghoul takes in the panicked tone and immediately changes the subject. "We gotta go," he reminds Gerard gently, and waves him down to follow. They climb down the ladder (remembering to cover the manhole again) into the unused city sewers and follow the grimy walls until they get to a fork.

A yellow arrow points down the left so they follow it. The sewer is barely lit, so Ghoul makes sure Gerard is close to him in order to make sure he's not lost. They walk mostly in silence, which Ghoul is thankful for. If Gerard's brother is really out in the Zones, and Ghoul knows him, he's sure 'Mikey' won't take too kindly to Ghoul murdering him and leaving his body in the sewers of Batt City.

They get to another fork and follow the yellow arrows to the right. Gerard stumbles over a loose chunk of the concrete, and Ghoul immediately turns and steadies him, hands on his biceps. Gerard clutches to his forearms in response and they stand there in the dark, gripping each other tightly. Ghoul feels a warm feeling in his chest, and immediately lets go and clears his throat. "We need to keep moving."

"Right." They continue on.

Ghoul sort of focuses on Gerard's breathing. He isn't sure what the fuck just happened, but Gerard's warm hands on his skin had really grounded him for a moment. He squeezes his eyes shut for a moment and then forces them open. He can't be distracted, not here, not now. This is dangerous, to have thoughts like that. Ghoul forces down a groan and continues leading the way down the tunnel. They turn a corner and pause, listening to the skittering of rats in the distance. Gerard mumbles something that Ghoul doesn't catch, and they continue on.

There's something vaguely familiar about Gerard's voice - the way he forms his words. Maybe it's a city accent, Ghoul thinks, he's heard quite a few exiles talk - with their too soft r's and the way that they don't mix their t's and th-'s like Zonerunners do. But besides the accent, there's just something about the solidness of his voice, the sureness of the way he speaks even in a panic. It itches at the back of Ghoul's mind and he frowns. He really shouldn't be thinking about Gerard's mouth right now, but he can't help it - the shape of his lips and the way he talks out the side of his mouth is something so familiar to Ghoul that he knows it's gonna bother him for the rest of the day. He throws an arm out suddenly, stopping Gerard behind him.

"What?" Gerard hisses. Ghoul shakes his head and points towards the corner up ahead. He strains, hearing footsteps.

Silently, Ghoul holds up two, no - three fingers and points up ahead. He hears Gerard's breath catch behind him. Ghoul presses himself against the wall, and Gerard follows suit. The footsteps grow louder, enough for Gerard's untrained ears to hear them and Gerard covers his mouth with his hand. Ghoul holds his breath.

They watch as three Dracs pass by the corner and barely look down their hallway. They continue on, footsteps echoing down the tunnels. Ghoul keeps them against the wall, neither man moving or even breathing until they hear the footsteps fade into the distance. Ghoul takes a deep breath and steps away from the wall, motioning to Gerard to follow. They silently creep down the hallway and make it to the adjoining hallway. Ghoul peeks his head out and scans down both ends of the hallway. He turns back to Gerard and nods, taking a right and hurries down it as quickly and quietly as possible.

They finally make it to the ladder that leads out, Ghoul climbing up first and shouldering the manhole out of the way. He pulls himself up and scoots away from the sewer, taking a deep breath of vaguely cleaner air. Gerard's head pops up shortly after and he hauls himself up to join Ghoul on the concrete. They're in an adjacent tunnel of the main tunnel into Batt City, one that rarely gets used. Ghoul replaces the manhole and motions for Gerard to follow him. They cautiously walk down the tunnel to where there's a pile of crates, a mix of brown wooden ones and white metal with the BL/ind logo on them. Behind the crates sits the Trans Am, Ghoul's baby, his pride and joy. He'd been ecstatic when he and Jet found it up North in Zone 6, near the diner they'd eventually call home. Ghoul helps Gerard load the stupid Action Cat head into the backseat and hands him the bandana. Jet had left a pair of what looked like welding goggles in the trunk, and Ghoul handed those to Gerard too.

"Trust me, with the dust and the sun, you're gonna need these," Ghoul says, voice cracking from disuse. Gerard doesn't argue, just nods and takes them both. He ties the bandana around his head, covering his nose and mouth and adjusts the goggles to sit on the top of his short black hair. Ghoul frowns, wondering if Show Pony still has those boxes of hair dye in the station. He shakes his head. Ultimately, it would be up to Gerard, if he even stays in the Zones with Ghoul. Ghoul climbs into the driver's seat, Gerard following suit in the passenger. 

The Trans Am roars to life, and they peel out from behind the crates and take off down the tunnel. Gerard lets out a startled whoop and Ghoul laughs.

Oh yeah. Gerard was gonna fit in the Zones just right.

\----

They make it to the main tunnel with no problem and even make it through the abandoned check in point (no need to crash through the barrier, as it had already been destroyed by another 'runner years prior) without alerting anyone. They're just about to make it through the actual tunnel entrance into the bright sun when the alarm blare through the tunnel. Ghoul swears and guns it, hoping to at least outrun the Dracs. A firefight with a whole Drac squad wouldn't end well for them, he knew that, especially with Gerard's lack of experience. Gerard, to his credit, has a calm look on his face, watching the walls pass as they speed down the tunnel.

The Tans Am bursts out of the tunnel into the sunset just as Ghoul sees white van and motorbikes enter the other end of the tunnel in the rearview. Ghoul floors it, kicking up sand on the worn down highway, and hightails it away from the white walls of the city. Gerard turns in his seat, craning his neck to see it grow smaller and smaller. They make it to the mile marker signifying Zone 1 when Ghoul sees the bikes enter the rearview, much closer this time. He swears.

"Y'feel comfortable shooting?"

Gerard shakes his head. "I've never done it before." Ghoul sighs.

"Alright. Can you drive?"

"Kinda," All citizens of Batt City are taught the basics of driving - Gerard's never actually been behind the wheel, but he figures that he can learn pretty quickly.

"Fantastic." Ghoul leans back, hands leaving the wheel and foot leaving the pedal for just a split second and Gerard slides into the seat instantly, hands on the wheel, foot on the pedal. Ghoul wriggles out from behind him and gets the passenger window down, hooking his legs around the passenger seat headrest and leaning his whole upper half out the window. He manages to hit one of the Dracs square in the chest with his first blast. _Alright_ , he thinks, _one down, three to go_. He hopes they can outrun the van, but he's pretty sure they'll manage to shake 'em. It's the bikes he needs to focus on now.

Ghoul aims his blaster and shoots. He hits one of the bikes in the front tire, sending the Drac riding it flying over the handlebars. Ghoul barely winces as the Drac is run over by its own bike, instead focusing on the Drac approaching closely. It fires its own weapon and he flings his head back into the car, narrowly missing the blast. Gerard swears, which shocks Ghoul for a second before he shakes it off and leans back out the window. The Drac is flanking fast, the other not too far behind it.

"Shit," he mumbles. Gerard doesn't take his eyes off the road, but Ghoul can see a crease of worry in his forehead. 

"Please tell me you have a plan," Gerard says flatly. Ghoul kind of wants to kick him out the moving car.

Ghoul suddenly gets a lightning bolt of inspiration. "I- Shut up-" He releases his legs' death grip on the headrest and flings himself into the backseat, grabbing his discarded backpack.

"What the FUCK are you doing?!" Gerard yells. 

"Just trust me!" The rebel screams back. He pulls out the medical supplies and rations he managed to grab from the city and pulls out-

"Is that a fucking bomb?!"

"Just drive!"

Ghoul hauls himself back into the passenger seat, producing a small screwdriver from one of his vest's many pockets. He fiddles with the components on the side and flicks the switch. It hums to life and he wastes no time flinging it out the passenger window. It lands in the surprised lap of the Drac closest to them, and the Drac attempts to swerve off the road to get it off. It fails, and there's a huge _**BOOM**_ , sending dust, smoke, and motorcycle parts across the road.

Ghoul cheers. Gerard's eyes are wide.

Ghoul is able to send a blast directly into the final Drac's chest, sending it flying off the road. Ghoul cheers again, and Gerard lets out a shaky laugh. Uh oh.

Ghoul rolls up the window with the crank and turns in his seat to face Gerard. He's white knuckling the steering wheel and looks incredibly pale. Well, more pale than he usually looked. 

"You okay?"

Gerard takes a breath. "Yeah. Just- Just didn't think we'd be getting out of that."

Ghoul nods. "I'm sorry," he says. He isn't sure why he's apologizing.

"It's okay. We- We're okay."

Ghoul watches another mile marker pass by. "Hey, we're gonna be entering Zone 2 soon. We should find somewhere to rest. We don't want to be out after dark."

"Why not?'

Ghoul shakes his head. "Just trust me. Plus, we need to eat. Get some sleep. I promise you we'll find your brother tomorrow, alright?"

Gerard nods, and the rest of the drive is silent.


	3. Names

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Gerard gets to know Fun Ghoul and finds a jacket.
> 
> Merry Christmas everyone! Have an extra chapter update for the holiday!!

They find an abandoned (but still inhabitable) Dead Pegasus station about halfway into Zone 2. The sun is well past set, and Ghoul hurries Gerard into the main building, pulling the Trans Am into the old car wash. He returns after a few minutes with a sleeping bag and a couple blankets, and his backpack. Gerard accepts a blanket, pulling it tightly around his shoulders. Who knew the desert could get so cold at night?

Ghoul starts a fire and settles next to Gerard, not quite touching him, but enough of a presence that it helps calm him somewhat. He feels a little sick, all things considered. His head aches and his stomach churns. Ghoul hands him a can of water and brushes some hair off his face, which Gerard freezes at.

"Sorry," Ghoul says, and pulls his hand away. Gerard wants to tell him it's okay, to chase after the hand, but he's not sure why.

So instead he says, "So what's our plan to find Mikey?"

Ghoul pulls a can of... something... from his backpack. "Well, we gotta get to Zone 6 tomorrow. We need to meet back up with my crew." He finishes opening the can and pulls a spoon from his bag and begins eating what looks like straight up shit. Gerard suppresses a gag. "Jet Star and the Kobra Kid. M'brothers. Trust 'em with my life. You'll like 'em, I bet." He swallows a particularly large bite and grimaces. "After we get everyone together, we'll work backwards. Check out all the haunts in every Zone, starting with 6. Mikey'll most likely either be in a crew or in a settlement. If we don't find him by Zone 2, we go to the Doc."

"The Doc?"

"Dr. Death Defying. He's uh..." Ghoul scratches his head sheepishly. "I don’t think he's an actual doctor, but he IS a radio host. He knows everyone out in the Zones. If we can't find Mikey, he definitely can."

Gerard harrumphs impatiently. "Well, why can't we go talk to him now? We're in Zone 2 right now, right?"

Ghoul snorts. "He's a busy man, dude. Dr. D's on air right now. If I interrupt his broadcast again, he said he'd let Show Pony do whatever they wanted to my hair." He shivers.

"Show Pony?"

"Yeah." Ghoul scrapes his spoon along the sides of the can, which doesn't help the ache in Gerard's head. "Oh right, I forgot. Y'all in the city have different names."

"I've sort of caught on to that," Gerard says softly. 

Ghoul takes a final bite of whatever the hell is in the can and chucks it. It lands somewhere on the sand-covered floor. Ghoul stretches and leans into Gerard's space, leaning his head on his shoulder. Gerard tries very hard not to show that he momentarily stopped breathing.

"People in the city - y'get your name from the city. From the government, from BL/ind, and your parents accept it and move on, right?" Gerard nods, face hot and not from the fire. "Right. Once you've fled the city, you've left another person behind. That person is dead, forgotten - they ain't you. They're just another stranger in the city, they're property of BL/ind. Out here, out in the Zones, you're property of you. You lead your own life and your city name is part of that abandoned person. It ain't you anymore." Ghoul shrugs. "Maybe it never was."

Gerard nods, kind of following. "Are you from the city?"

Ghoul nods. It's quiet, expect for the fire crackling. Ghoul leans over to grab something from his bag, then leans back into Gerard. 

"What's your name?"

"Already told you. Fun Ghoul."

"I meant-"

"Look," Fun Ghoul turns around to face Gerard with probably the most serious look Gerard has seen on the rebel's face. "Most Zone dwellers - neutrals or rebels - they will never, ever, speak of their city names. Never think of 'em, if they can help it. And no one out here ever asks. No one needs a reminder of that life of gloom and restriction they left behind." Ghoul turns back around. "Most people'd shoot you in the mouth for even asking that."

"I- I'm sorry," Gerard is flustered now.

Ghoul sighs. "It's alright, Gerard. Look it-" Ghoul runs a hand over his face. "A lot of the people I run with, the rebels like me, they didn't come out here willingly. They were exiled for crimes they didn't commit, shit that shouldn't have gotten them kicked out. It's a sore subject, city names. I just want you to be safe out here, alright?"

Gerard nods. "Thank you."

Ghoul starts. "For what?"

"For keeping me safe? Getting me out here to find my brother? I don't know." Gerard sighs.

Ghoul nods. "You're welcome."

They sit in silence for a while, Ghoul still fiddling with what Gerard now sees is a small handheld radio. It crackles to life and a song is playing. It's wild, out of tune guitars and screaming lyrics and Gerard is suddenly filled with adrenaline. His headache goes away and he laughs. Ghoul turns around again, a smile on his face.

"Ever heard real music before?"

Gerard's laugh pauses. "Nah, they don't make anything like that in the city."

Ghoul nods, smile slightly fading. "I know." It returns again as the next song begins to play. "'S The Mad Gear and Missile Kid. They're legends out here."

"Whoa," Gerard's in awe. The song, as terrible as it is, sort of sums up the Zones pretty well - wild, incomprehensible, fun, loud. "They're incredible."

"They really are. Kind of assholes though. Or, Mads is. I've met them a few times because of Dr. D. Missile Kid's cool though, much nicer than their partner."

Gerard's head is spinning. "They?"

"Yeah. They're both nonbinary." Ghoul waves his hands around. "Uh, not a boy or a girl. So both of 'em use they instead of he or she. Does that make sense?"

Gerard nods, head spinning. Ghoul continues. "Gender's uh, kind of different out here. Sexuality too. People do what they want, present how they feel. It's not like the city at all."

"Not at all," Gerard echoes.

\----

The radio sings until Ghoul turns it down. The fire dies down and they argue about who should get the sleeping bag. Gerard thought Ghoul should take it, Ghoul wanted Gerard to take it, so they end up sharing it. Gerard would rather die than admit that this is the most comfortable he's felt in a long time, even on rough tile and a cold wind occasionally passing through the building from one of the broken windows. They're lying next to each other in the surprisingly roomy sleeping bag, blankets tossed on top. Ghoul's shoulder is pressed against Gerard's and the warm pressure of it grounds him. He finds himself drifting off to sleep, headache all but gone, and the last thing he registers before he goes to sleep is the sound of shopping cart wheels along the pavement.

\----

Gerard wakes up slowly, eyes adjusting to the dim sunrise. He's on his side, Ghoul's chest to his back, arms wrapped around Gerard's middle. Gerard can feel Ghoul's slow breathing, his heartbeat and it's too much - all too much, so he slides out from his grasp and out of the sleeping bag into the cool morning air. He glances around the gas station, hoping to find a bathroom and spots a door with a sign that probably at one point read "Restrooms". He beelines over to it and opens the door. There's a toilet and a sink, and he's willing to bet neither works, but beggars can't be choosers, so he shrugs and shuts the door. He relieves himself and cleans himself up the best he can. He opens the door when he's done, glancing to the pile of blanket/sleeping bag/still sleeping ghoul over on the floor and smiles. He wonders how old Ghoul is, probably not older than himself. He looks a lot younger when he's asleep though. Gerard stumbles over something and looks down.

A crumpled up blue pile rests at his feet, sitting next to the wall as if someone had left it there and never went back for it. Gerard bends and picks it up, shaking it out. A jacket. A blue leather jacket with a cool pill shaped patch on the back and a Dead Pegasus logo on the front. He pulled it on eagerly, finding that while it fit him quite well in the torso, the sleeves were way too short, more of a quarter sleeve than anything. But it was a jacket, and it was sturdy and didn't smell too bad. He zipped it up and smiled. 

He heard stirring and looked over to see Ghoul sitting up, rubbing at his eyes. 

"Good morning," he offered. 

Ghoul jumped. "Jesus." 

"Sorry. Didn't expect me to stick around?"

Ghoul snorts. "Not used to you, yet. Don't usually have someone watching my six when I go into the city." He yawns again, then fixes his gaze on Gerard. "Nice jacket."

"Thanks. Just found it."

Ghoul smiles. "Y'look like a real Zonerunner now. Besides the hair."

Gerard reaches up to touch his short black locks. "What's wrong with my hair?"

"Nothin'. It just looks a little boring compared t'the rest a ya." Ghoul stands up and begins shaking out the blankets and folding them. Gerard walks over to help. He's halfway through rolling up the sleeping bag when Ghoul speaks up again.

"Friend a' mine, Show Pony. They can help you do your hair if you want to try something new."

Gerard pauses, debating. "I- I'd have to think about it. I just want to find Mikey."

Ghoul nods, moving on from the pile of blankets to pack up everything into his backpack again. "No worries. It's just a suggestion. I like your hair the way it is. Just thought you might want somethin' fun." He shrugs, not looking at Gerard.

"I think I'm the last person in the world you'd associate the word 'fun' with." Gerard sighs, giving up on the sleeping bag. He turns to watch Ghoul instead.

Ghoul chuckles. "Not a party person?"

"Nah," Gerard shakes his head. "I'm a party killer. I poison everyone's fun."

Ghoul pauses and looks up at Gerard. "Party Poison."

"What?" Gerard takes a step back, suddenly intimidated by the look on Ghoul's face. 

"You're Party Poison. That's your Zone name."

"I-" Gerard wants to say he doesn't _want_ a Zone name, isn't going to _be_ a Zonedweller or - _God forbid_ \- a rebel, but finds that he can't speak.

Ghoul stands up and puts a hand on his shoulder. "Marinate on it a bit. I'm gonna load up the Trans Am. Come on out when you're ready." Ghoul leaves the station.

Ghoul packs up the Trans Am slowly, wanting to give the other man time to process. He loads his bag into the backseat, making sure to keep the leftover bombs and his spare blaster at the top, easily accessible. He puts the blankets and sleeping bag into the trunk, snorting at the sight of the mascot head still sitting in there, looking like it had been sliced off the body with a jump rope garrote. Ghoul slams the trunk and looks up to see a figure exiting the gas station.

Party Poison exits the station, blinking in the sudden sunlight. They catch the sight of Ghoul staring at them, and they do the only thing Party Poison can do better than anyone else.

They smile.


	4. Hit the Red Line

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Ghoul and Party drive out to Zone 6 to meet up with Ghoul's crew in the Diner.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So sorry for missing Saturday! Have an extra chapter to make up for it!!

Ghoul drives this time, engine roaring to life under his capable hands as they fly down Route Guano. Party Poison all but sticks their head out the window like a dog, feeling the breeze in their short hair and laughing. The radio blares with another Mad Gear and Missile Kid song, one that Ghoul knows really well. Party likes Ghoul's singing voice, almost as much as his speaking voice - it's gravelly and kind of whiny, but when he rolls his tongue around certain letters and wails out words at the top of his lungs, it sends a shiver down their spine.

They like being Party Poison, they like being with Fun Ghoul, and they're a little scared of what that all means. 

Party only wanted to come out into the Zones to find Mikey. They really didn't have a plan, no idea what to do when they found Mikey. A dumb, naïve part of them hoped they could just take Mikey back into the city and return to their normal lives. But the rational part of Party's brain told them that that ship had long since sailed. They drummed their fingers on their thighs, loud enough that Ghoul reached over and took one of Party's hands into his own and held onto it. An electric current had dug itself into Party's veins and sent a wave of thrumming energy through their hand, up their arm, and directly into their heart. They hid their smile behind their other hand and turned their head to face the window.

What was Party supposed to do now? They liked Ghoul, and liked hearing about his crew. They're not sure if the crew will like them, but now they're in a little fantasy in their head where they can join this group, making their trio into a group of four. _But what about Mikey,_ a tiny voice in his head whispered. Party frowned, glaring out into the desert. The guitars on the radio wailed on, and their headache was back. Maybe Mikey was in another crew. Party could join them? That way, they could be with Mikey. _But Ghoul,_ that same tiny voice whispered.

_Shut up,_ they whispered back.

Ghoul must've looked over at them and saw the pained expression on their face. He released Party's hand and leaned forward, turning the radio off. "Sorry," he said quietly. "I forgot how bad it is to get off the pills."

Party shrugs. "It's not bad. Just headaches."

"The nausea will come soon enough," Ghoul teases, and it pulls a smile out of Party.

"Happened last night," Party replied breezily. "Although, that might've just been the smell of whatever the hell you were eating."

Ghoul cackles. "Power Pup is the only foodstuff from BL/ind without freaky chemicals and shit in it. Guess you can't brainwash a dog."

"You-" Party begins to laugh uncontrollably. "You were eating DOG FOOD?!"

"It's nutritious!" Ghoul tries to argue. Party's too busy wheezing.

"Alright, I'm done being nice." Ghoul turns the radio back on, with a lower volume than before. Party's too busy dying to point it out.

The song ends and a crackle makes Ghoul sit up straight. Party wipes a tear from their eye and focuses on the radio. "What'"

"Shhh-"

The crackling stops. "Rise and Shine, Tumbleweeds and welcome to another glorious morning out in the little piece of Heaven we call the Zones," A deep voice fills the car and Party notices Ghoul visibly relax. "You're here with me, Dr. Death Defying, once again filling your airwaves with the hottest of music and freshest of news. Speaking of, we have a traffic report for all you Runners out there: Automatic Static and Krash Kat are reportin' in a four and double ones straight from Zone 4 just off the Getaway Mile."

Ghoul swears under his breath and turns the radio up.

"According to Kat, 'Just had a clap with a horde of Dracs coming straight off Route Guano. Luckily, me and Static ghosted 'em and managed to get away. Warning to all outer Zones'." The man clears his throat and there's the sound of rustling paper. "That's the end of Kat's report. Attention to all Zonehoppers and Crash Queens out there - if you can take back streets and avoid the Getaway Mile and Route Guano, try to do so. Keep your leather hot and upthrust them zaps, chillens. You're more than likely going to get some Draculoids out there before you're even done zippin' up those boots. Time for me, Dr. D, to hit the red line for now. Keep running." The radio crackles again, and a new song starts. Ghoul frowns and turns the volume back down.

"What was that?"

Ghoul snorts. "That, Party Poison, was the voice of the Zones: Dr. Death Defying. He does news and shit. Traffic Reports. BL/ind movements and shipments. Drac patrols. Stuff like that." Ghoul scratches his nose. "Announces births and deaths n shit too. I don't know. They say he's been out here since the Analog wars."

Party's mouth drops. "You're joking."

Ghoul shakes his head, eyes on the road. "He fought in the Helium wars, same as Mad Gear and Missile Kid. And I think Cherri - uh, someone else I know." Ghoul runs a hand over the back of his neck. "The were exiled out of the city for protesting or some shit. They and a few others were the first Runners."

"Whoa." Party says, unable to come up with anything else to express their awe.

"I know right?"

They drive for a few more hours, thankfully not finding any trouble. They pass a few other Runners on their bikes, and Ghoul waves to them, Party joining in. The sun is high in the irradiated blue-green sky when they pull up to an abandoned church for a break in Zone 3. Party exits, stretching their legs and they notice something near the church.

"Ghoul?"

Ghoul is pulling two cans of Power Pup and a can of water from his bag and doesn't look up. "Yeah?"

"What's this mailbox for?"

Ghoul looks up over the top of the Trans Am, squinting over his sunglasses and sees what Party's pointing at. "Oh. Don't touch that."

Party backs up. "Why not? Is it dangerous?"

Ghoul shrugs. "C'mere." He settles on the hood of the Trans Am, holding out a Power Pup can to Party. Party sits next to him, eyes on the mailbox. They take a bite of Power Pup and force themselves not to gag. Ghoul snorts.

"Must be a city thing," he says, maybe not meaning to say it out loud.

"Aren't you from the city too?" Party mumbles, forcing themself to swallow the mush. It's edible, but only barely.

Ghoul takes a swig of water from the can. "I left when I was 6."

Party turns to look at the smaller man in shock. "What?"

"My moms were exiled." Ghoul shrugs. "We left as quick as we could."

"Moms?"

"I had two moms. What, Party, got a problem with that?" It's said in almost a joking way, but there's a slight edge to it.

"Not at all." Party takes another bite of Power Pup. 

Ghoul gestures to the mailbox with the can he's holding. "It's a shrine," he explains. "An altar to the dead. Y'put letters in it to reach your loved ones in the afterlife. When someone dies, y'put their mask in there so the Witch can guide 'em to the afterlife."

"The Witch?" It feels like the air has dropped 10 degrees. Party shivers.

Ghoul's noticed it too. "Careful," he says. "Names have power, remember? The Phoenix Witch takes care of the dead when its their time to go."

"Like the Grim Reaper?"

Ghoul raises an eyebrow from behind his sunglasses. "I guess so? She collects souls. She don't kill nobody." Ghoul scrapes the bottom of his can with his spoon and finishes his Power Pup. Unlike at the gas station, he places it gently on the hood of the car instead of chucking it. "She takes care of the dead when its their time to go. But if you give her offerings, it can help her get them to the right place."

"People out here believe that?" Party cringes at the way they phrased it but Ghoul doesn't seem to mind.

Ghoul nods instead. "Desert's pretty divided on if she's real or not. Y'always got waveheads who claim they've seen her shopping cart after a huge battle or something. Then there's people who don't believe in anything they can't shoot. So it's pretty split."

"How about you?"

Ghoul shrugs, standing up from the hood of the Trans Am. He stares at the church and the mailbox for a long time. "Jet Star, one of the guys in my crew. His parents were executed in the city when he was 13 years old." He shakes his head. "Jet's one of the most rational, smartest people I know. He wrote a letter to his ma 'n pa more times'n I could count. They didn't have masks, so we figured letters were just as good." Ghoul leans down and picks up a rock. He turns it over in his hand. "It brought Jet closure, y'know?"

Ghoul turns to face Party. "I don't know if I believe in her or not. If she comes and takes my soul someday, so be it. If I die and nothing happens, so be it." He runs a hand through his wild hair. "The shrines, the altars. I think they're more for the living than the dead."

Party's sitting in stunned silence, watching Ghoul. They've been talking with him for the last day but they never knew he could be so eloquent. Their heart beats a little faster and they clear their throat. "That was... Really well said, Ghoul."

Ghoul gives them a lopsided grin. "It's not all wires 'n cobwebs up here," he taps his temple with two fingers. "I can be smart sometimes too. Make sure to tell Jet and Kobes that when we get back though. They'll owe me 20 carbons."

Party laughs and finishes their Power Pup. Ghoul sets their cans in the backseat to be thrown away on less sacred ground, and they both climb into the Trans Am. Before Ghoul can start the car, Party pokes one of the beaded bracelets on his wrist. "What're these?"

"Bad Luck beads," Ghoul answers. He lifts his wrists and turns them, showing off the many strands he has. The beads range from light brown to jet black. "Most runners make 'em themselves, but it's tradition to give newbies their first-" Ghoul straightens up. "Hey!"

Before Party can react, Ghoul takes their hand and intertwines their fingers. With a carefully practiced move, Ghoul slides a bracelet down from his wrist, over the other strands and down onto his hand. It passes over where their fingers are linked, and Ghoul lets go of it when it's situated on Party's wrist. The weight of it surprises Party, Ghoul releases their hand and they bring their wrist up to examine the beads. They're a beautiful dark brown, almost black unless you bring them up to the sunlight.

"If the strand breaks," Ghoul says in a hushed voice, "they say it's because the person who gave it to you made their way to the Witch."

"Do you believe that?" Party whispers, eyes not moving from the beads, suddenly feeling much heavier.

Ghoul clears his throat. "When they nuked Zone 7, half my bracelets fell apart and shattered. Same with Jet." They both let that sit in the air for a while.

"Keep it safe, Party Poison," Ghoul mumbles, and the Trans Am roars to life. Party nods wordlessly.


	5. End of the Long Road

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Party meets Jet Star.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So sorry for missing Saturday! Have an extra chapter to make up for it!!

The rest of the afternoon passes by without much conflict. They chat, listen to the radio, and Party even manages to shoot a lone Drac off its bike, much to Ghoul's pride. Seriously, Party think Ghoul's excited whoops could be heard across all of the Zones. They're a little embarrassed, but they preen under Ghoul's praise. 

  
They're well into Zone 5 when the music ends in a crackle and Dr. D's voice echoes through the speakers.

  
"Hey there, rock-n-rollers. The vicious ladies of Zone 1 have just patched into our Freq to let us know that a large horde of Exterminators are on Route Guano. We have no idea why or where they're headed - but remember Tumbleweeds - Exterminators will not stop until each and every one of us is one of the four acceptable levels of dead. I'd advise you all to get off the roads and into any kind of shelter. Do not try to fight if you can hide or run instead. These boys ain't Dracs." Dr. D clears his throat. "Me and the station rats will be playing music 'til they physically make us stop. Don't worry Tumbleweeds, we will make it through this long dark, irradiated night. In the meantime, open up some Power Pup and lay back on your thunderdome. Here's to the smoother side of the apocalypse." The radio crackles again and a song begins to play.

  
Ghoul turns the radio down and scans the horizon before turning in his seat and checking their six.

  
"Should we get off the road?" Party asks.

  
Ghoul shakes his head. "We're almost there. Plus, if they're out in Zone 1, it'll take 'em some time to get out here." He sounds confident but Party can see his hands shake. 

  
"Ghoul?"

  
"I'm okay. I promise." He takes a deep breath. "The S/C/A/R/E/C/R/O/W unit killed my moms."

"I'm so sorry."

Ghoul shrugs. "It was a long time ago. They're better off now." Ghoul shrugs again. "Still hate those bastards though."

Party nods. "How long til we-"

"We are..." They pass a mile marker, half buried in sand. "Officially in Zone 6. Welcome to the Outer Zones, Party Poison."

Party tries not to smile. They like when he says their full name. "How long til we get to the diner?"

"We gotta get off this main stretch of highway. Just leads to nothing." Ghoul gestures to the expanse of wasteland ahead of them. "We'll take the sidewinder to the North for about 30 minutes, then we turn at the mailbox. From there it's an hour long straight shot to the diner."

Party nods, not understanding a thing he just said. "Cool."

\----

The last hour and a half of their journey feels like years to Party. They listen to Ghoul's quiet singing and stare out the window. It's not that they're nervous to meet Ghoul's crew - far from it. In fact, being Party Poison gives them confidence they had never felt before. It was like they were a completely different person than the person in the City, like Ghoul had said. Or maybe they'd been Party Poison the whole time and Gerard Way was the persona they'd used to cover it up. No, they're not nervous to meet Ghoul's crew. They're more nervous of what happens after. Will they help Party find Mikey? What if Mikey was still angry about how they left things? What if Mikey was in a crew with a bunch of other people and they didn't need another? What if Mikey was d-

Party shakes their head. They can't think like that.

Ghoul seems to notice what they're thinking. He reaches over and takes their hand again. They interlock their fingers with his and relish the crooked smile that makes its way onto his face. 

"Hey," he says, more gentle than Party's ever heard. "I'm sure Mikey's okay. He's probably found himself a crew or a settlement. He's your brother, he's bound to be as scrappy as you."

"He's smarter," Party says, voice barely a whisper. "Fuck. He- He's so smart, Ghoul. If anyone can escape out here and survive, it's Mikey."

"There ya go then. Don't worry." Ghoul squeezes their hand but doesn't pull away. He rubs his thumb absentmindedly over the back of Party's hand, and Party is suddenly struck by how smooth their skin must feel. Ghoul has rough hands, calloused from years of hard work in the Zones. Party hasn't asked but based on the way Ghoul's been looking over the car everytime they stop and the seemingly endless amounts of tools he has hidden in that vest, Party's willing to bet a couple carbons that Ghoul's more or less the mechanic of his crew. He had also seemed a little too comfortable with the bombs he had been chucking yesterday, so Party comes to the conclusion that he's most likely the resident explosives expert as well.

Ghoul clicks his tongue and pulls Party from their thoughts. They look up from Ghoul's beautifully tattooed hands and look to where he's pointing. There, against the nuclear sunset sky, sits a rundown diner. A figure stands outside it, blaster in hand. They wave to Ghoul who whoops and guns the engine, spraying up dust and sand. Party laughs, excitement flooding their body. They're gonna meet Ghoul's crew.

Ghoul slows the car down as they get closer, pulling it into a lean-to that Party assumes correctly is the garage. It looks like a mechanic's shop, like the ones in the city, only much less clean. Along with the Trans Am, there's two motorbikes, each as spraypainted and dinged up as the car. Ghoul kills the engine and rushes out of the car, Party hot on his heels. They're glad they'd left their apartment yesterday (was it only yesterday? Jesus.) in their sturdy black boots rather than their usual dress shoes. Maybe the universe had wanted them to run away with Ghoul. They catch up with Ghoul in time to see the figure who had been waving. They were tall, taller than Party, with a cloud of dark hair styled into an afro. They had a dark navy leather jacket and a gray t-shirt underneath. Their sunglasses were pushed up into their hair, exposing their huge smile and kind eyes.

"Jet!" Ghoul was saying, wrapped in the taller's arms. "This is Party Poison. I helped spring them from the city. They helped me take out some Dracs." Jet steps forward and offers a hand, and it's so formal, so unmatching to everything Party's experienced with rebels in the past 24 hours that they almost laugh. They don't.

Party takes Jet's hand and they shake. Jet has an incredibly friendly smile, one that wraps you up like a blanket on a cold night. "Good to meet you. Sorry you had to be with Ghoulie though." Ghoul makes an offended noise and Jet and Party both laugh. "I'm Jet Star, by the way."

"Nice to meet you too."

Ghoul smiles at them both, clearly pleased with how awkwardly polite both of them are. "Anyways, like I was saying. This is Party. They need to find their brother."

Jet raises his eyebrows. "Your brother's out in the Zones?"

Party nods, staring at the dirt. "Yeah. He- he left a year ago." Their head aches. "Maybe more, maybe less?" They shake their head. "I need to find him."

Jet nods. "We'll do everything we can."

Another figure exits the diner. Ghoul brightens. "Kobes! Just in time! This is-"

"Gerard?"

Time stops.


	6. Brother if you have the chance to pick me up

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Party Poison meets the Kobra Kid

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Haha sorry about the cliff hanger last week! Hope y’all enjoy this chapter!!
> 
> Also happy new year! May 2021 be kind to us all!

Party Poison can feel time slow to a stop. They feel their pulse stop in their chest, blood stopping its flow, and their organs shut down. Their heart falls into their feet, and they stare, open mouth at the figure who just emerged from the diner.

The figure is most assuredly _not_ Michael James Way. He's tall, taller than Gerard's slouching brother. Instead of being a skinny twig, the man staring at Party has filled out, slim muscle showing beneath his yellow t-shirt and red leather jacket. The hands pushing up his sunglasses are too tan, with long calloused fingers and short, broken fingernails. Then the sunglasses are off, into too short, too blonde hair and Party sees the dichromatic eyes staring back at them, the face they grew up hearing was the exact clone of their own, slimmer now, but still almost just like looking in a mirror and Party-

Party runs forward at the same time Mikey- no- the Kobra Kid does.

Kobra crashes into them first, suddenly strong arms wrapping around Party and they both fall down. Party's crying - when did they start crying? They bury their face into their brother's neck and grip him tighter. Maybe if they can hold him tight enough he can't get away from him again. Kobra's holding them just as tightly, just as fiercely, and while he isn't crying, he's tapping on Party's shoulder - a quick 1 2 3 staccato that Party has known all their life to mean " _I love you_ ".

Party barely notices the other two walking back into the diner, Jet whispering to Ghoul ' _wow that was easier than we thought, huh?_ ' All they can think, hear, feel is ' _Mikey, Mikey, Mikey_ '- They let out a sob and Kobra tightens his grip on them.

"I'm sorry," Party gasps out. "I'm sorry for yelling, for not coming with you I-" They choke on another sob. "I'm so sorry."

Kobra pulls Party's face from his neck and presses their foreheads together. "Shh. Gee, it's... It's okay. Really. I'm fine, we're together now. It's okay."

"I-"

Kobra shushes him again, pulling them back into the hug. Party's not sure how long they sit out there, two siblings holding each other like if they let go the world will end. Which, maybe it will. Maybe the second they loosen the grip on their baby brother, the world will explode into a wave of fire and the last thought they'll have is "I got to see him one last time". Party sniffles against Kobra's neck and Kobra snorts a laugh. It's so familiar, so comforting, so _Mikey_ , that Party forgets everything - forgets the pills, the city, the Exterminators and the Dracs. They've found their brother and everything is _okay_ again.

Party pulls away from Kobra, bracing for the end of the world and finding nothing. They place their hands gently on the sides of their brother's face and examine him, every new scar, every line, every freckle. _How had he changed so much in just a year?_

Kobra seems to be studying Party the same way, eyes searching their face. He clears his throat. "So. Party Poison?"

And the way he says it is so _Mikey_ that Party just. Loses it. Slightly. They let out a hysterical sort of laugh and release his face. "Yeah, uh. Ghoul helped me pick it out."

"It's cool. I like it."

"How about you? Kobra Kid, huh?"

Kobra lets the ghost of a smile appear on his face. "Long story. Snake in the desert, I'll tell you about it on a long drive. Deal?"

Party nods. "Deal."

Kobra attempts to untangle their limbs to stand and falls over. They laugh, Kobra's sounding a little weak, and Party's filled with worry. 

"Hey," Party says, hand on Kobra's shoulder once they're standing. "Are you okay?"

To their surprise, instead of playing it off or denying it, Kobra shakes his head. "No. But I- I can't talk about it. Not out here. Inside, okay?"

Party nods again. "Of course." They wrap their arm around the Kid's shoulders and marvels at how broad he is compared to the last time they did this motion. It made Party's head spin. Had it only been a year?

The siblings walk into the diner, the elder holding tightly to the younger.

\----

Jet immediately interrogates them the second they sit in a booth with them and Ghoul. 

Is that really your sibling? _Yes, Jet._

Their name is Gerard? _I go by Party Poison now, but yes._

Your name is Mikey? _It was. Only Gee- Sorry - Poison can call me that._

Why'd you leave without them? …

That question hangs in the air a long time. 

Jet immediately apologizes, sensing they may have crossed a line. Ghoul smacks them in the shoulder and Party actually fears there might be an actual fistfight before Kobra clears his throat. They all turn to face him. His shades are still off, arms on the table, hands flat and there's a distant look in his eyes. And suddenly, Gerard knows _exactly_ what happened, why they got left behind, why Mikey was so keen on getting out as soon as possible.

Everything about Mikey Way, everything about Kobra Kid screams S/C/A/R/E/C/R/O/W.

He's dressed like a Zonerunner, hell he talks like one and has the memories of one too. But he screams crow in everything he does. His spine is too straight, neck a little too stiff for fluid movement. He's methodical, too methodical to just be brushed off as another city rat that came out to the Zones - it's in the way he searches for an exit in every situation, the way he holds a gun, like a tool rather than a weapon. It's the way he was able to sweat out his drugs in only a short few hours, but the withdrawal pains still made him ache. It was how the promise of feeling something off the pills, something besides artificial happiness, complacency, and simmering, real anger, went unfulfilled. Mikey Way died in the city, not feeling anything, and now the Kobra Kid was awake in the desert with a gaping hole in his chest. Party Poison wept their eyes out over seeing their brother again and Kobra-

Kobra didn’t.

Party remembers where Kobra was living before he ran for the Zones. He was in training to be an Exterminator. He was at S/C/A/R/E/C/R/O/W. 

Their parents had been so proud.

Their Grandmother not so much.

Party jolts. They forgot to tell him.

Kobra takes a shaky breath. "I left without Party because they didn't want to come with me."

"Why didn't you wait for them?" Ghoul asks. There's no malice in his voice, just pure curiosity. Jet begins to say something but Kobra holds up his hand.

"I couldn't wait. I'm sorry, Gee," Kobra turns to Party now. "You know why."

"I remember," Party says, voice barely a whisper. They clear their throat. "You don't- You don't have to say-"

Kobra shakes his head, turning back to the other two, staring at the siblings in confused silence. "I have to tell you guys. You can kick me out if you want, but" He closes his eyes. "You deserve the truth."

"When you two found me last year, half dead in the sand, it wasn't because the pills were reacting wrong. It wasn't because I'd been attacked. It was because I was on stronger pills than most. I was in training... Ever since I was 16, they were training me to be an Exterminator."

You could hear a pin drop in the diner. Jet's staring open-mouthed at Kobra, eyes wide. Ghoul is staring too, eyes narrowed and his mouth a straight line.

"Ghoul-" Kobra says, voice faltering. "I'm sorry. I should have told you."

"Yeah." Ghoul's voice is like ice. "You should have."

"It took four years for me to break out of the brainwashing. Another year to wean myself off the pills in order to be less suspicious. I never wanted to hurt anyone."

"But you still killed people."

Kobra stares at the table. "I-"

"That's enough," Party says, voice a lot stronger than they felt. "He wants to be honest with you and tell you the truth about his past and you treat him like-"

"Like what, _Party_?" Ghoul sneers. "A murderer? Well, newsflash _Gerard_ , your brother is a fucking murderer. How many Zonerunners have you killed? How many children? How many of our _friends_?!" Ghoul slides out of the booth and stands up. "Jet- he- we can't have him in the crew anymore."

Jet closes their eyes, taking a deep breath and letting it out slowly. "Ghoul," They say, voice like steel. "Sit back down."

Ghoul explodes. 

"He's a fucking MURDERER!"

Party wraps their arms around Kobra, but before they can say anything, Jet Star is standing up from the booth.

"How many times has he saved your life, Ghoul? My life? The radio crew?" Jet is standing at their full height, anger evident on their normally very kind features. It scares Party and Ghoul falters a bit. 

"What if he goes back to his programming? You really want a fucking S/C/A/R/E/C/R/O/W next to you while you sleep?" Ghoul retorts.

Jet slams their hand on a nearby table so hard it wobbles. Ghoul takes a cautious step back. 

" _FRANK IERO_ " Jet roars. Party and Kobra both flinch. "YOU WILLINGLY CALLED KOBRA YOUR BROTHER, RISKED YOUR LIFE FOR HIM MULTIPLE TIMES THIS PAST YEAR AND HE'S DONE THE SAME FOR YOU!" Jet furiously pushes his hair out of his eyes. "How can you treat him like that? He escaped his programming and his old life, leaving behind his own brother in order to stop being a fucking murdering, soulless machine. And you have the _AUDACITY_ to turn on him now?"

Fun Ghoul - Frank - looks like he's trying to come up with an argument, but fails. He looks over at Kobra, whose face is in his hands, and Party, arms wrapped around their brother, eyes on Ghoul. Ghoul scowls.

"I'm going on a walk."

"Ghoul-" Jet tries.

"Don't" Ghoul pushes Jet's hand off his shoulder. "Just don't. I need... I need some time."

"Take all the time you need," Party says quietly. 

"I'm sorry," Kobra whispers. Party tightens their grip on his shoulders. 

Ghoul squeezes his eyes shut and leaves the diner, door slamming behind him. Jet sags and all but collapses back into the booth.

"Jet-" Kobra's face is out of his hands, he looks terrified.

"Kobes, hey-" Jet reaches across the table and takes Kobra's hand. "I- I'm not sure how I feel about... all this. But," they clear their throat, "You're my friend. I consider you my brother. You've saved my ass more times than I can count. It's gonna be a little weird, I'm sure, but you're still the same Kobra I pulled out of the sand a year ago."

Kobra makes a noise in the back of his throat and taps the table three times. Jet doesn't seem to notice, but Party smiles. Jet smiles back at him.

"And of course, you're more than welcome to join our crew, Ger- uh - Party." They laugh awkwardly. "Guess I spilled the Power Pup on Ghoul's name, huh. I'm Ray, by the way. If that makes it even."

Party chuckles. "Ray. I like it. Suits you."

Ray- Jet Star- smiles. "Thanks!"

Kobra clears his throat. "We should all probably still use our Zone names though. City names for private use?" The other two nod in agreement.

Jet stands up from the booth, cracking their back. "Well, this has been an exciting day. Sorry to cut this short, guys, but I need to hit the hay."

"Of course," Kobra says.

Party nods. "Sleep well," they offer. Jet laughs, the kind twinkle back in their eyes and Party relaxes. The siblings wave as they walk to the back room where Party assumes there's probably a sleeping area. Kobra and Party sit in the main room for a little longer, not saying a word - just enjoying each other's company.

Snoring trails in from the backroom and Party stifles a giggle. Kobra smiles a tiny bit and slides out of the booth, standing up. 

"C'mon," he says jerking his head towards the front door. "Let's go talk."

A feeling of dread fills Party's stomach. "Where are we going?"

"To the roof. C'mon."


	7. A Sky Lacking Stars

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Party and Kobra talk on the roof.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> TW: MENTIONS OF TORTURE.

Party follows Kobra outside into the cool desert air. The sun has long since set, the horizon nothing but empty blackness as far as Party's eyes will see. They follow Kobra to the side of the diner and watch him climb up the rickety ladder to the roof. Once he's up on the roof and situated, Party climbs up. The ladder creaks dangerously, but Party's more worried about Kobra and what he might want to talk about. Not to mention, what they needs to tell him once they get up there.

They make it up the ladder and stumble onto the roof. Two strong hands have a hold on their arms instantly, and Kobra helps them steady themselves, but doesn't quite let go until they're both sitting against what used to be the exhaust pipe from the diner. They can both lean against it comfortably, feet propped up against the lip of the roof, and staring up at the sky.

"Do you remember stars?" Party asks, without really thinking.

"I remember reading about them. But I don't think I've ever seen them." Kobra leans his head on their shoulder.

Party nods. "Maybe someday they'll be back," they say hopefully. 

Kobra snorts. "We'll be long dead by then, I think."

"Maybe," Party hums thoughtfully. "Hopefully whoever's left will enjoy it for us."

The sit in silence for a while, enjoying each other's warmth and listening to the other's breathing. 

Party takes Kobra's hand in their own. "Mikey-"

"Yeah?"

"Our grandmother- She-"

"She's gone, isn't she?"

Party nods. "I'm sorry."

Kobra makes a really quiet noise and Party moves their unused arm to wrap around his shoulders.

"When?" Kobra manages to choke out.

"A few days after you left. I-" Party chokes, memories flooding back.

"Oh God, Party? Party!" They vaguely register two hands on their face, someone shaking them. All they can feel is needles, hands on their skin, white flashing lights in their vision. 

"GERARD!" They snap back to reality. Mikey is holding them, panicked. 

"Mikey?"

"Yeah, it's me. It's me. Oh my God. What-"

Party sits up slowly. "They hurt me."

Kobra goes pale, jaw falling open. "They... They what?" His voice is tight.

"After the funeral. You weren't there. They found me on the floor crying. You're..." Party shakes their head, lifting their hands up to examine them. "You're not supposed to cry. Not even after a funeral." They look up at Kobra. "I hadn't taken my meds since you left."

"Gerard-" Mikey exhales. 

"They brought me into this white room. They asked about you, about the Zones. I didn't tell them anything. I didn't _know_ anything. They stuck needles in me. Pumped me full of this... this clear liquid. It burned, oh my God it burned so badly, Mikes." They choke on a sob. Mikey wraps his arm around their shoulder. "They cut me. Hit me. Burned me. They starved me and kept me awake." They close their eyes tightly. "Then they made me forget you. Forget our grandmother."

Mikey gasps.

"There was a flashing white light. Everytime it flashed they told me- they told me you weren't real. That there was no one named Mikey Way." Party's crying now. Again "I'm so sorry, Mikey. I didn't mean to- I didn't want to forget you-"

"I know," Mikey says, and suddenly Gerard's being wrapped in strong arms. Gerard cries themselves out and they feel Mikey shaking as he holds them. All Gerard can say is a stream of apologies, and all Mikey can do is hold them.

\----

They've finally stopped crying.

Party's leaning back against the exhaust pipes again, Kobra's laying down with his head in their lap. Party's running their fingers through his hair, and they're both watching the horizon.

"I'm so sorry they did that to you," Kobra says quietly. 

"I'd go through it again if it could keep you safe," Party admits. 

Kobra shakes his head. "I'll burn that whole city down before they could do that."

Party fake punches him in the shoulder. "I'm the oldest, I'm the one who's supposed to make those kinds of threats." Kobra snorts. 

"Whatever. We can burn it down together. The Way brothers, the most wanted siblings alive."

Party hums. "That sounds like a comic book."

"Needs a cooler name. We gotta include Jet and Ghoul too." Kobra yawns. "The something four."

Party smiles at the sky. "The Fabulous Four."

"There ya go," Kobra yawns again. His voice begins to slur a bit. "What're you? Party Poison. Kill joy. Fabulous Killjoys."

Party laughs quietly. "Now that's a comic book!"

Silence.

Party looks down and is taken aback by how quickly Kobra fell asleep. His breathing has evened out and he looks as young as Party remembers him being. They keep running their fingers through his blonde hair, enjoying time with their brother that they'd missed out on. They had a lot to make up for.

The sound of the ladder rattling causes them to jolt, their hand flying to their blaster in their inner jacket pocket. They pull it out, determined not to wake Kobra. Ghoul pops his head up to peer at them and Party sighs in relief, putting the blaster back.

"You scared me," Party whispers. Ghoul finishes climbing onto the roof and walks over. He sits next to Party.

"I wanted to apologize." Ghoul says.

Party turns to look at him. His face and tone is sincere, but Party's been missing out on a year's worth of older sibling-ness so they narrow their eyes at him.

"I understand why you were upset, and it's a really valid reason," Party says, feeling a lot like their Grandmother as she pulls them and Mikey apart for fighting. "However," they say, and Ghoul's expression falls. "It's not me you should apologize to."

"I know. I-" Ghoul breathes out a laugh. "I was planning to apologize to the both of you, but it looks like Mikey's asleep."

Kobra twitches at his name. They go silent until he relaxes again. 

"What was it like?" Ghoul asks suddenly. Party turns to him. "To see Kobra again."

Party looks up at where the stars used to be. "It's like losing a limb. That's how it felt losing him. I lost a part of myself. And then suddenly he was back with me and I could protect him. I could keep him safer than I did last time." Ghoul nods, looking down at a still-sleeping Kobra.

Party studies Ghoul's face. He has a long scar on the corner of his lip stretching to the side of his face, like a permanent smirk. Party had noticed it before, but now that they were facing him, they could really study every feature of the other rebel's face.

"What?" Ghoul asks, concerned. "Is something wrong?"

"Nah," Party replies. "Just lookin'. You have a nice face."

Ghoul splutters, and Party bets that if the light was better up on the roof, he'd be blushing. "I- Thanks?"

Party shrugs. "I was an artist in the city. It was my job to study people. Faces especially."

"Oh." Ghoul leans in a bit closer. "Would you draw me?"

Party leans in until their breaths are mingling. Ghoul's eyes flick between Party's lips and their eyes. "I'd draw you, yeah." Party's tongue darts out to wet their lips, Ghoul's eyes tracking every movement. "You're very nice to look at, I'd bet you'd be great to draw."

Ghoul smiles and Party can't help themselves. They close the gap, pressing their lips against his softly. Ghoul reaches up and cups the back of Party's head with his hand, the other settling on their chest. Ghoul tilts his head and deepens the kiss, licking at Party's bottom lip, begging for entrance. But- Party remembers where they are - what they're doing and _who_ is currently in their lap and they pull away. They murmur an apology against Ghoul's lips and pull back farther. Ghoul nods, looking at Kobra to make sure he's still sleeping. 

Party gently shakes Kobra awake, and grumbling he wakes and sits up.

"C'mon, Kobes. Time for bed. Inside." Ghoul says. Kobra nods, too tired to question why Ghoul's suddenly on the roof with them.

"Yeah, Kobra. Get some good sleep, you've got one hell of an apology coming tomorrow," Party says and Ghoul snorts behind him.

\----

Somehow, they all safely make it down the ladder and into the diner. Kobra shuffles into the backroom while Party and Ghoul stay behind in the main room. As soon as the door swings shut behind him, Party finds themselves with arms full of Ghoul, pulling them down to his level in order to continue the kiss.

And if they wake up the next morning wrapped around each other in the same sleeping bag, no one says anything.


	8. Epilogue

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> A massacre. A baby girl. 4 unlikely guardians.
> 
> The Fabulous Four face their biggest challenge yet.

Party feels as though they just fell asleep when they're being shook awake, eyes snapping open with a groan. "What-"

"Sorry Gee," Jet's kneeling over them, looking actually pretty apologetic. "It's the Doc. There's been an incident."

Party sits up, rubbing their eyes. They manage to pull up and lace up their boots, stumbling off their cot and into the main room. The bump their head into Kobra's shoulder and he reaches to tap them three times on their arm, before they finally collapse in a booth. A pair of filthy boots land in their lap and they glare at Ghoul, who despite looking exhausted, has a shit eating grin on his face.

"Fuck you," Party says with absolutely no venom behind it.

"Did last night," Ghoul retorts, taking a swig of water. Kobra makes a loud noise than can be easily translated into _'do not talk about fucking my sibling while I'm in the room, please, God, I will end your life Frank-'_

Jet clears their throat and everyone snaps to attention. Two years, Party's known Jet, and their quiet authority still scares them sometimes. They remind them of a stern-but-loving mother or a teacher that just wants to see you succeed. It's kind of cute, actually.

"There was a huge firefight in Zone 3."

"Anyone we know?" Kobra asks.

Jet takes a deep breath and Party winces. That's never good. "Krash Kat, Automatic Static, Zenith, Hal4000, and Tsing all got ghosted. Lima got injured, but Stardust managed to get 'em out of there." They squeeze their eyes shut.

"Fuck," Ghoul all but whispers. Party agrees, running a hand through their new bright red hair. Their color may be yellow, but fuck if Show Pony couldn't sell fire to a burning man.

Jet opens their eyes and runs a hand over their face. "Someone got Drac'ed"

It feels like the air has been sucked out of the room. Kobra stands from his perch on the counter. 

"You're absolutely sure?" Ghoul's voice cracks and Party reaches for their boyfriend's hand.

"It's what the Doc said. Fifteen people are unaccounted for, including Mad Gear and Missile Kid."

"No-"

"It can't be-"

Jet sits down on one of the remaining stools at the counter hard and buries their face in their hands. Kobra walks over to them and rubs their back. Party's proud of how far Kobra's come in the past two years with his emotions and empathy, but finds themselves unable to move from the booth to offer any comfort to Jet or Kobra themselves.

"It- It can't be Mads. O-or Kid right?" Ghoul sounds so much like a little kid it breaks Party's heart. "Maybe D was wrong?"

Party nods, although the sick feeling in their stomach makes them feel otherwise. "I'm sure it'll be okay."

\----

\- NINE MONTHS LATER -

Party and Ghoul are on a supply run in the city.

Ghoul's been making jokes the whole drive about their romantic first meeting, and how this is an anniversary trip. Party tries to laugh along, but finds himself unable to really commit. Ever since what people were calling the Zone 3 Massacre happened a little under a year prior, Party had been on edge. Several masks had been found, and bodies had been burnt or never recovered. Mad Gear and Missile Kid had reappeared about a month and a half after everyone assumed them to be dead, both pale as ghosts, eyes wide. They only spoke to Dr. D, and then had disappeared in their gold Camaro. Rumor had it that they were out in Zone 7, dying of radiation and playing music for Destroya and his android followers. Party missed them, but they understood. The massacre had taken more than just single Zonerunners - whole crews, whole _families_ were wiped out.

Party privately hoped that if their crew ever died, they'd be the first to go in order to not have any survivor's guilt.

( _Somewhere, out in Zone 3, The Phoenix Witch sighs._ )

They ditch the Trans Am in a safehouse Tommy Chow Mein had set up for them as down payment for them retrieving a few _specific_ items for him. They trekked the remaining half mile on foot, Party wearing their bandana and goggles from the first day they'd met Ghoul. Ghoul wore a scrap of worn sheet around his head, wrapping it around his hair and face to keep himself safe from the sandstorm that had kicked up. They walked cautiously, holding hands, although neither were worried about Dracs in a sandstorm like this. They make it to the maintenance door in the wall and quickly get inside. Party has their yellow blaster out and Ghoul follows suit with his green one. Party leads the duo, Ghoul keeping a close eye on their 6, and they sneak into the city. 

It's a routine supply run, almost laughably easy at this point. For how much BL/ind touts that they have an iron grip on the Zones, the Killjoys and other Zonerunners know exactly who runs the wasteland, and it's not BL/ind.

They're in and out of a Drac supply building like mice, not alerting anyone or tripping any alarms. They take what they need (plus the items they agreed to snag for TCM) and are out of the warehouse before no time. The slink back into the alleys, taking side streets and creeping through the slums until they can get back to the maintenance tunnel. They're about a street away when they hear crying. 

A baby crying.

Ghoul looks at Party. Party looks at Ghoul. They cautiously round the corner, blasters out, and Party's jaw drops at the sight waiting for them.

A Drac is laying on the ground, motionless. In its arms, there's a bundle, from where the noise is coming from.

"Holy shit-" Ghoul breathes. The Killjoys approach cautiously, keeping their eyes open for any potential threats, any sign that this is some kind of trap. 

Party reaches the bundle and picks it up. The baby wriggles and sniffles, looking up at them curiously.

"Hi," Party breathes out. The baby tilts its head, as if trying to understand them.

"Wait- is it a-"

"It's a baby, Ghoulie." Party looks down at the Drac. It has a vaguely feminine shape, a bump where its stomach should be. "Can Dracs get pregnant?"

Ghoul stops in his tracks. "I... I don't think so?"

Party notes that the Drac's chest is rising. "It's still alive," they say in awe.

"Party, we need to get out of here."

"We can't leave the kid."

Party can't see him, but he knows Ghoul just rolled his eyes. "Babies can't survive out in the Zones, Party. Plus, what if the Drac took it from its mom?"

"I don't think it did. The kid's still got goo on it. It's brand new. I think it's the Drac's baby."

Ghoul sighs in frustration. "We've been here too long. We need to leave."

"Fine. I'm taking the kid."

"Do you even know how to take care of a baby?"

"The Doc can help."

"The Doc ain't a real doctor, you know that."

Party huffs a laugh. The baby coos. "Look, she likes me."

"Aw, jeez, you looked?" Ghoul gives up. "Fine. Take the baby. The Doc can find it- her a good home."

Party hums in agreement, knowing exactly whose home that's going to be. "C'mon Motorbaby, let's ride."

\----

Motorbaby seems to be a good name for the Girl, because the engine of the Trans Am makes her giggle and coo. They make it to Tommy Chow Mein's place in record time, and his eyes go WIDE when he sees the Girl in Ghoul's arms.

"Y'need some supplies y'know," He says, and Ghoul tries to see greed in the older man's eyes but can't find it. Tommy holds the girl, cooing back at her as Party and Ghoul search the store for baby supplies. When they try to pay, Tommy waves away their carbons. "Just this once, alright?" He gives them both a stern look, eyes gentle when he looks at the Girl, safe in Ghoul's arms. "Come back and visit with my favorite niece, now, yeah?"

They clean her off with baby wipes and Party wrestles with the diaper while Ghoul figures out the carseat. They get her into a yellow and green striped onesie and she's snoozing by the time they themselves buckle up and hit the red line onto the Getaway Mile. Ghoul patches into their Freq and tells Jet and Kobra the situation in non-specific words in case someone overhears.

In no time, they're at the radio station. Show Pony, Cherri, and Hot Chimp have all seen some shit come through their front door, but nothing like Party Poison and Fun Ghoul running in clutching a baby. D comes off the air and wheels himself into the main room and just _stares_.

"Unless Ghoul has suddenly grown a body part we weren't expecting and you two have been ignoring the Safe Sex lectures during Pony's late night hour, you two have a lot of explaining to do."

Ghoul splutters. "Did you just call me a bottom-"

Party interrupts, bringing the baby to Dr. D. "Her name's Motorbaby. Or the Girl. We haven't decided yet."

"Where'd you find her?"

"In the city," Ghoul says, also approaching. He's over his offense. _(for now)_ "It was a normal supply run for us. We turn the corner and there's a Drac with the Girl in her arms. Still breathing, but - I don't know? Unconscious?"

"Have you ever heard of a Drac getting pregnant?"

Dr. D jolts, looking at Party in shock. "What?"

Party suddenly looks sheepish, looking around at all the shocked faces looking at them. "The Drac- it was a woman. Or it had been. I don't-" They clear their throat. The Girl whimpers and Party rocks her gently. "It had a bump. Where the stomach should be. And the Girl was covered in goo. Like- birth goo."

D almost laughs. "I'm familiar, Party. I've delivered a couple babies in my time."

Ghoul snorts. D fixes him with a glare. "You really still think I'm not a doctor."

"Hey, doesn't matter what a piece of paper from a different world says, yer not getting near my body, D."

D shrugs. "Your funeral, Ghoul." He clears his throat and reaches for the Girl. "May I?"

Party hands her over, and D cradles the Girl gently in his arms. He pulls the blanket from her body and gently feels around with two fingers - on her stomach, arms, legs, throat. She giggles at the tickle of his beard when he presses his ear to her chest and he presses a scratchy kiss to her forehead before handing her back to Party. 

Show Pony breaks the silence. "That was adorable, boss." The rest of the station crew snort.

D glares at them before turning back to half of the Fabulous Four. "She's in good health, good lungs and no deformations. Keep her well fed and be ready for a lot of sleepless nights, alright?" He gives them both a rare smile. "Bring her back every month for a checkup or I'll have your hides.

"You're her guardians now, both of you and Kobra and Jet. You need to work together and keep her safe." And with that, D wheels himself back into the broadcast room and everyone else in the station crew goes back to their duties. Show Pony does pause to coo over the girl for a bit but then waves them off when called over by Cherri.

Party secures the Girl into her seat, now a little fussy. She calms when Ghoul starts the Trans Am and sits quietly for the drive to Zone 6 in between her two new guardians. 

\----

Jet and Kobra are waiting for them outside the diner when the Trans Am pulls up. Ghoul steps out first, carrying his and Party's backpacks, we well as the bag of baby supplies from TCM. Party get out next holding the Girl swaddled in her blankets. She coos at them while they walk up to the front door. Jet and Kobra both look stunned.

"I thought baby was code for something-" Jet whispers. They reach out and Party hands them the Girl. Jet coos back at her and she grabs at their hair. They laugh in delight. "Oh I like her already."

"Hold her right, Ray, y'gotta-" Ghoul rushes over, correcting Jet's arms. "Her neck's gotta be supported."

"Oh like you know anything about babies, Frank" Jet snaps back, mostly playful.

Ghoul lifts his chin, glaring at Jet haughtily. "I helped my mom deliver tons of babies, Toro. I know more about babies than you do."

"Great! You just signed yourself up to be her primary caretaker!" Jet says. The girl whines. Jet and Ghoul wince and look down at her. 

Surprisingly, Kobra steps forward and takes her carefully into his arms. His jacket is off, probably laying in a booth in the diner, but Party's willing to bet a couple carbons that he's got something in his pocket to entertain the Girl. Kobra's an enigma, even to his own sibling. If you need a knife or a bit of string, somehow he has some in his pockets. Party's also noticed him pull out keyrings (with no keys), a piece of rubber that Kobra occasionally will bite at, and whatever cool rock he's found while walking in the desert. They're immediately proven right when Kobra pulls a tiny bit of fabric from his back pocket and places it into the Girl's tiny fist. It must be soft because she clutches to it tightly, smiling up at Kobra, and Kobra - rough, 'showing emotions is worse than dying' Kobra- smiles back down at her.

"Now that's fucking precious," Ghoul says, not a hint of sarcasm in his voice. 

Jet nods in agreement. "We should really head inside though. Radio said that a sandstorm was blowing its way up here.

\----

They move all the bags and the Girl's carseat into the diner. Ghoul figures out the formula and bottles, so he gets busy feeding her while the rest of the Four put away supplies and tidy up the backroom. They figure the Girl can sleep in her carseat for now, just until they can find a few scraps or wood or metal or rebar to build a crib. Kobra suggest giving her one of their cots, but they figure that it's too much of a risk, as she could fall off in the night.

Ghoul is sitting at a booth when they leave the backroom. The Girl is against his shoulder, and he's tapping her back gently. She burps and he grins. "Bingo."

"Did she just throw up on you?" Jet asks, fascinated.

Ghoul shrugs. "Babies spit up sometimes. Y'gotta burp 'em after they eat just to make sure." He gingerly hands the Girl over to Jet who cradles her like Ghoul showed them. Ghoul then takes the towel from his shoulder and leans across the table to wipe her face. The Girl makes a soft noise and her eyes flutter shut. Jet and Ghoul both make very unmanly noises at how cute she is and Kobra walks over to join them. He doesn't make any noises, but he does smile at her again.

Party watches from the counter. They've finally figured out how old they are- thanks to help from Kobra and Jet. They're 26 years old, and so is Jet, Kobra's 24, and Ghoul - surprisingly - is the youngest at 21. It had been a little bit of a shock to all of them, but they had instantly turned it into jokes at Ghoul's expense (who turned around and called them all geriatric right back). Party privately hopes Ghoul realizes he's not the youngest in the group anymore, but he's not gonna tell him in any case. Party watches the three most important people in his life become four. They smile and walk over, to help put the Girl to bed.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you all for reading and sticking with this!!! 
> 
> Keep running!

**Author's Note:**

> Also, before y'all comment, THIS FIC IS NOT FRERARD. 
> 
> I DO NOT SHIP REAL PEOPLE
> 
> The Gerard, Frank, Ray, and Mikey are NOT the real MCR members
> 
> I'm only using the tags for reach lmao


End file.
